Do you know fics where Tom is extremely dark and evil but Hermione is good - A very toxic relationship ( he tries to rape and hurt her ) - he do eventually love her ( but still manipulate and hurt her ) - but Hermione is still bamf.
Hey Anon,
Here's a few for you. -JD
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I want to request COD men receiving a heartfelt letter from their lover while they are away for longer than usual (bonus if there's tears from their lover on the letter) (I hope that made sense)
(I apologize if I didn't follow the rules correctly, offended you in anyway, or any words I used wrong š)
A man of his age and rank is no longer afraid of showing the obvious symptoms of missing his beloved, and the letter he received only go to amplify those already tender feelings
As he reads your letter over, it's not his voice but yours that resounds in his head, your hand moving the pen over the paper and stringing these sentences together, by the stroke of the ink he can tell on which lines you hesitated and which ones you wrote in a frenzy as if in a hurry to get them out of the brewing of your heart lest they fly away like a winged horse
He only wishes he could hear these words from you, to know what was the look on your face, or better yet to stare into those cherub eyes of yours and forget every responsibility ever, deep in your eyes you reflect what is dear in your heart and with your mouth you speak it
This letter is nothing but a small looking-glass through which he can catch a glimpse of you in
Ghost
A man like Simon who is usually so removed from his feelings when in company of others, feels his heart clench when opening your letter and feeling the now dried paper texture underneath his fingers where your tears have fallen and dried
He always came back, but somewhere within your heart you missed the warmth he reserved for you, and with words you conveyed those yearning feelings in this letter to him
You had not wanted to burden him, your hand hesitating as you wrote out the sentences, but you could not wait for a miracle to tell him how much his presence was missed by you
And he knew that your absence made his heart grow fonder as he lost himself in reminiscence
Perhaps he would not know of this pain of missing you if he had not known love at all, but then his heart would have been torn asunder, in place of those horrid feelings that plagued his early life; a light flicker known as hope warms him when in your presence
He keeps these concealed feelings pocketed alongside the letter; only taking it out to read when alone
Soap
In a previous hc I had mentioned how he would adore writing letters to you, exchanging them like how Napoleon wrote to Josephine at times, in a desperate manner and without pause
Was probably tracing your face with his finger on a photo he's folded and unfolded many times until he hears he's got correspondence, has a faster reaction time than when he receives orders and it lowkey annoys his superiors
If there is a windowsill nearby he prefers to read your letter while next to it, as he softly murmurs your written words to himself and with each line his grin grows wider until his eyes come across blurred ink where your tears have fallen
He can only twist the ring around his finger, fidget with it as his grin fades and a sense of guilt replaces the giddiness his heart had felt moments prior, he had promised a lifetime next to you, yet despite how cheerful and merry you had attempted to make this letter, your tears are inevitable proof of your pain
Gaz
Being incapable of wiping the tears left on this letter by you, he clenches his hands into fists as if holding all his feelings back from exploding into a tempest, his unspoken thoughts he would share with you at the end of each day go unheard
With this bubbling up within him, he has no choice but to shut it away and try his absolute hardest to focus on the little words he has from you, he stares at the letter long and hard as if it were a passionate poem in need of deconstructing and picking apart to examine
Rolling each of your words off of his tongue, he momentarily forgets the longing for you that is present in his heart, but as the words from your letter have been cast in the waters of his heart and sunk in, he feels the weight of your affections added to his
There is a stirring in his chest and if you were there you would see it in his eyes too, he flexes his hand as they become undone from the tight fist they were in earlier, no matter how much pressure he applies the empty feeling of your missing hand in his is still present
Roach
This anxiety carried within his chest was triggered by your absence, the letter you sent felt like a small ripple in a lake of memories of which he longed to submerge in, a flicker of your familiar form would flicker in his mind as he read your letter, holding it dear to him
The wear of the paper made it obvious this wasn't easy for you either, he wished to be by your side more than anything else in the world, if only wishing would grant him his wish of waking up beside you
He reads the letter once, twice, then a third and also a fourth time, after that he keeps repeating the words until he can mumble them to himself as a sort of comfort, but each time he chants your words he'll make sure one of his hands is in the pocket the letter is kept in
Assuring him that this letter is not imagined, you have truly sent it and are waiting for him
Alejandro
These letters he keeps with him as if secret incantations he recites when in his worst moments, he whispers your quiet declarations of love to himself, a beautiful melody in his ears he wishes to hear from your lips in place of his own
Will you call him delusional if he admits to sometimes recognizing your shadow casted on a wall as he imagines you writing this late at night when it's likely you do not sleep out of your heart yearning for him?
But a certain letter from you stays with him more than the others, in this one it seems you've scribbled in a frenzied, feverish sort of way compared to its much calmer and sweeter letter counterparts, the words had risen from your intense feelings at having to wait weeks after week with only a letter from him
For you it had felt like eternity and for him to have to realize that it is him to have caused you such pain, will it is rather unforgiveable and a grave sin on his part
Rudy
Lovers have no chance nor opportunity when it comes to expressing their tender feelings for one another, and in this cruel world that kept you from him, he held resentment for that which kept you apart, until that letter from your arrived
Your simple and honest words had a way of making the aching in his chest harder to contain, especially when he remembered how your eyes showed unshed tears as your parted, without asking him for the impossible you only place a hand upon his chest and your lips on his cheek
He gazes at the sky after reading your letter and is comforted by the fact that while you're at home, you're living and breathing under the same sky that overlooks the yearning of two lovers
Clutching the letter to his chest as he rests under a star-speckled sky, which shines brightly, he digs up memories of your face and voice to lull him into sleep because even if the stars aren't aligned in your favor at this moment so long as he remembers the warmth of your embrace and the sweet enticement of your voice then nothing else holds a bigger piece of his heart
Phillip Graves
He's used and even looks forward to reading how much you've missed him in the letters he receives from you, but it's obvious this letters is meant to convey a much deeper sensation, having unearthed the ugliness of what your reality is without him there next to you for such a long, extended period of time is opening his eyes and making him realize the truth
Haggard is the heart in matters of softness to the point that prolonged strain like this will start to wear even the strongest of patient lovers, you're falling into dark despair and sadness without being able to have him
You've fretted and worried beyond your capacity and your only wish is that these next few weeks that remain will fly by in a flash so that you may embrace his familiar form once again in your arms instead of relying on past sensations which are starting to feel like dreams instead, you want reassurance he is still around and for that he can't think of a solution other than wrapping things up to make it back to you safely
Makarov
A man who is so sure and confident in meeting your every need even when he is miles away falters for a moment upon reading your letter, it is obvious you have exposed your heart to him and that is something his eyes lock on to admire in astonishment
Like a timeless verse, the letter is something he spends a long time contemplating, he knows you understand his position and what being close to him implies for your relationship, yet the heart does not show mercy when not in presence of a kindred partner
Your feelings drift from the letter to his heart and take place there until he comes to understand the full extent how deep your feelings run, doing nothing when alone is frustrating enough for you to want you to spill your every feeling and thought onto paper
Keegan
Received your letter and stuffed it into his pocket, waiting for an opportunity to read it alone, and with barely contained restraint from now having heard you for weeks he tears open the letter and devours your sentences with his eyes as they travel across the pages
It's as if needles were being pinned into the tips of his fingers with the way he so slightly shook, he's got such levelheadedness to be carried away by simple follies
But this is no absurdity of his, for as strong as a man can be, in the soft inside of raw flesh he is nothing more but a thought formed out of dust and longing for his partner at his side
In your letter he can tell you've experienced a range of emotions; plunging headfirst into a strong sentiment of yours for having left you alone for so long, then how much you miss him, and finishing off with a threat of him better coming back
A laugh escapes him, deep from within his chest he can feel that painful affection only you can bring out; even when you're miles away
Kƶnig
Frightened by the break of dawn which is inevitably to come, he clings to that wish of his to see you and for that sky to break soon, allowing him escape into your embrace, for that lonely sky to wave its' goodbye
You know the duty he carries is heavy and he takes it on with no complaint, you are sometimes pierced by the overwhelmingly deep meaning of this task he has, the resolution you carve into your letter reaches him like a severe flame upon opening the envelope
His fingers tremble upon tracing your dried tears across the paper like fragile scars, so pure yet strong are your honest words to him that they go through every part of his body and settle deep into his bones
He knows that if possible you'd want to share your fate with him if it comes to worst, you can't handle being without him and neither can he, wanting to trace your soft cheek with his rough fingers he attempts to wipe the dried tears on the paper
Horangi
The shrike flies east while the the swallow flies west; what a cruel, tragic separation of lovers that ripples across cultures no matter the era humanity is in, forever a pain that will be felt
Through many bitter days he remembers you, despite his letters to you convey none of that sadness it is still very much a present ache every day is further away from you, missing you in heartache
On one of your many lonely nights you write a letter to him, as your pen makes lines of ink across a page, two lines of tears also fall upon the paper; staining and engraving a feeling more powerful than any words you could've written
When your letter arrives safely in his hands, he internally wishes you would forgive his ignorance for he was not aware until now how much despair your heart was experiencing
You've given your love to him without regret, but while he had a fraction of a chance at controlling his fate, you could do nothing but spiral alone at home, and it's hard for a lonely shadow to form a pair
Nikto
Wishing you could whisper your feelings to the wind and have it carry them to him, you try your best to convey them as raw as possible in your letter to him, hoping this feeling reaches him you relay your desire to the moon
The night your letter finally is in his hands, a full moon is high in the sky and lets a sliver of her light through a window, it is that moonlight he uses to read your letter, it is as if the moon uses her magic and suddenly he has a clear vision of your facial expressions as you write the letter
Time is fleeting for Nikto but your resolution to show him the place you've reserved for him in your heart is strong, it has not yet been a lifetime for Nikto to understand the meaning of being loved but he feels the warmth of your words spreading across his chest
It is a strange, blooming sensation that scatters like leaves and reminds him of spring's reawakening
Well, is it a problem if they arenāt aware of it? You swore youād had this conversation a million times.
āGirl.ā Johnny leans over your shoulder to not-so-quietly whisper (yell) at you. āDidnāt kno tha LT could be tha fācsed on something other than cāmbat.ā
You wish he was wrong. You wish everyone was wrong. It was becoming a problem - and you didnāt know how to solve it.
āI wish I knew why he despised me so damn much.ā You grunt, irritated with the weight of the lieutenants attention bearing on you. āIām a rookie, of course, but I carry my weight. Captain praises my combat techniques every damn second he gets.ā
āI dunno lass. Iāve never seen someone so stoic get evenā¦more stoic.ā Johnny laughs at himself. āBut Iāll let you know if I find anything juicyā
I catch the tail end of the Lieutenantās conversation as Soap walks away. Heās discussing an upcoming mission with one of the new recruits, emphasizing the importance of inventory run-through for the millionth time.
Was it that? Did you fuck up an inventory check on the last run? No - Cap wouldāve put it in the mission report to render next time. Youāre truly lost. You thought it had been going well with LT - you had JUST learned how he takes his tea.
Do you think itāsā¦?
No. Thereās no way.
Whatever. You donāt give a shit about the Lieutenant and his problem with you anyways.
š±
Itās warm. The warm press of a leg thatās not yours against one that is. You wish you didnāt crave the touch - you wish you didnāt crave any touch, but here you are.
āSergeant!ā Simon barks at you.
Right. The mission. You need to get your shit together.
āOn it, LT.ā You somehow get out, your head floating somewhere it shouldnāt on a mission this high stakes.
You head towards the East Wing of the decrepit - probably hazardous - building the task force was sent to this time. Yellow, peeling wallpaper surrounded you, leading towards a maze of office rooms and weirdly assorted furniture. it smelled ofā¦eggs? Not the time to be hungry girl.
Eggs?
Your com cuts through its near constant static to Simonās heavy breathing. You thought the base was abandoned? Did he find someone? Did someone find him?
āThereās a leak,ā his gruff voice cuts through. A leak? Likeā¦gas? āLocation, now.ā
You blink.
āEast Wing, weird office, approximately 50 ft from the Log Room.ā
You blink again.
Warmth.
āI need you to follow my every step until we get into that room.ā You feel his breath cover your neck before the words fully register. Oh, okay. You feel his gloved hands slide around your waist after youāve stared ahead a moment too long.
Right - the mission.
You force your feet to follow the path to the Log Room - you know this by heart, you studied it for weeks.
Left. Right. Left. Step over the cords. Left. Right. Left. Right. Simonsā hands clench tighter around your waist as footsteps register. Left. Right. Footsteps?
āGet in thā room and go left.ā Simons practically breathes into your ear.
The dust hits you first, the permanent mildew stains second. You kick away piles of old computer papers and years of dust bunnies to comfortably squeeze into the corner Simon guided you to. You take a moment to catalogue the potential danger you two are in - the footsteps are continuing to surround you, but theyāre obviously still a floor above. You may have time to do this.
You take a look at Simon just as he turns to check if youād made it. You nod. He signs āIāll watchā. You nod. And inhale.
Focus.
āOkay,ā you whisper inaudible to yourself. You grab the tools needed - stored safely on your Tac-Vest. āTime to do the fun part.ā
What you were hired for - the best hacker on this side of the harbor. Price sought you out after one of your last schemes made national media - a rookie mistake - but one that gave you the most phenomenal job a girl could dream of. Of course, you had to be trained and ripped apart to prove yourself to the team (in your mind), but over these last 3 years youāve done nothing but work your ass off to prove it over and over again.
So yeah - this is slight work. Could be better if you couldnāt feel Simon Rileyās fucking stare on you.
You pop the cover off of the control panel and get to work. Ghostās slightly shuffling outside the door, no doubt getting impatient. He knows your rhythm by now though, so it canāt be too bad.
Huh. These wires look fairly fresh compared to the ancient computers collecting dust to your left. You warily continue accessing the board. Maybe they replaced these recently? But why? You finally get through enough layers of dust to access the chip you were after. After you remove it you notice a piece thatās definitely not supposed to be there, a sticker almost? You quickly peel it off and findā¦another chip.
Oh. They were protecting something.
You feel your feet dragging before you hear the alarm screeching in your ears. Ghostās hand is wrapped firmly around the back of your gear, pulling you in a direction you canāt exactly decipher at the moment.
The closet - get to you trip slightly over those fucking cords the closet. East Wing, 30ft from Log Room. Are you saying this aloud? You hope so.
You hear a door whish open and your body being placed upright in possibly the smallest space youāve ever stepped foot in.
Warmth.
āOh.ā You whisper.
Ghost has silently positioned the faux wall/door back into position before youāve realized the proximity of his body to yours. His front pressed to yours, his body providing heat you havenāt felt so close in many, many years. Embarrassingly enough, the heat has made your brain register safety in a situation it certainly shouldnāt. The slack in your knees goes unnoticed entirely due to Ghosts body essentially holding you up.
āHi.ā You breathe. What a mistake. Your eyes begin to shut as the dust bunnies in the room make their way to your nose, a sneeze on the tip of your tongue, shi-
Ghosts hand wraps itself around your mouth, the sneeze hardly audible over his thick gloves. Shit. As if that wasnāt bad enough, the smirk on his face combined with the mortification of screwing up the mission bleeds onto your cheeks, flushing them an undoubtedly rosy shade.
The footsteps fall harder, getting closer until theyāre directly outside of the makeshift closet youād shove yourselves into. They lead right to the door, until they continue their path to the Log Room. Whew.
Simonās thigh somehow finds itself nudged between yours in the chaos. Your eyes widen as you involuntarily squeeze him into yourself. You pulse. His grin deepens.
āHi, bunny.ā He breathes into your mouth.
š±
You hear the pop of the cap before itās placed on the wood table in front of you.
ā4 beers and a Danielās with a fresh coke for bunny.ā Gaz boasts broadly as he approaches the booth. Youād found yourselves at Maloneās, as always on a mission like todayās. It was somehow a huge success, Gaz and Soap clearing the North Towers as you and Ghost left the East Wing as quickly as you could - much to your chagrin.
āProud of ya, team,ā Price grins. āThis oneās been a long time coming. Couldnāt be happier. Now drink you brutes.ā
The four men hoot and holler while you giggle slightly into your whiskey. It had been a good one - you could say that. Youāve definitely seen worse.
You know heās looking before you can even register to turn your head. Simon Riley and his damn staring problem.
āWhatās yār problem Ghostie?ā You hiccup. You and Soap may have pre-gamed quite a bit before heading out.
āWhatās thaā bunny?ā Ghost grins. Him and his stupid grin.
āYou stare.ā You grit out.
āOh, do I?ā Heās loving this, the bastard. You sigh. Maybe sulking is your best answer.
āYes, you do. Whatād I do tā ya?ā You pout slightly. He raises his hand to wipe your hair out of your eyes.
āCan I tell you a secret?ā He whispers as he leans in close. Your breath hitches as you glance down at his lips through the mask. You always wondered how theyād taste on nights like these. Beer? Or the cherries he steals out of your Jack and Coke?
āMaybe both,ā he laughs against your lips. Well, maybe not against, but with how little youāve been touched in these last few years he damn well may have been. He heard that?
āUkraine. August ā23.ā
The mission youād completely bombed. Literally. The metal fragments are still buried deep into your naval - the explosion still echoing in your memory when night creeps into your room. That had been a rough one for the team.
You didnāt know the place was mined - it was your fourth, fifth mission? You were used to sitting at a desk, reviewing the many ways to bypass servers and firewalls tough enough to take down multiple CIAās. The months of training holds nothing to common sense - see a giant āant pileā? Donāt step on it. The fuck. Youāll never get rid of Kyleās screams over the coms that nights. Your consciousness was like a frequency, in the atmosphere, then out. You could only remember slight waves of nausea and blurry grunts of pain. It was the first time you truly thought you were going to die.
You groan slightly, the shame reinventing itself into every crevice of your being. Your therapist would cringe.
āThought I was gānna lose ya, Bunny,ā he says.
His stare lowers to your form, dressed in what youād consider āriskyā. The small amount of skin youāre comfortable showing, still more than the team has ever been allowed to see.
āGotta stare at ya. Make sure yār not gānna vanish. Plus when itās a view like this, how could I not?ā
Oh. Oh. Your Lieutenant is flirting - you think. You also think that maybe youāre not as drunk as you should be to not remember this sentence every night forever more. You pulse.
āOh.ā You mumble, casting your gaze towards his hands. Theyād saved you so many times, on so many missions. You wished theyād break the invisible walls youād built around yourself. You wished theyād touch you.
Warmth.
Ghosts palm slides around your knee, respectfully, of course. Until itās not. Your breath catches - whys he sliding up? Thatās a little high, you havenāt felt that since 8th (?) grade, Seth Matthewās in History - what a crazy time right? Your plans to distract yourself donāt work in the slightest as the warmth youād been chasing for the last 3 years rushes over your body, cheeks, hands, cunt faster than you can process.
You let a whimper escape, involuntarily. Damn.
āIāll do whatever yā wan me to, Bunny.ā He sighs. āJust please - let me stare as long as Iād like.ā
I may of sent this before but my wifi was messed up so I don't know if it went through, but!!! Can you draw 141 doing communal shower antics and maybe if you'll be soooo kind to bless me with some gaz stuff just doing anything on duty love him in your style, keep creatingš
I beg my kidnappers for a phone, swearing not to make any calls or texts, and they stare over my shoulder, holding a gun to my head as I use my newly-freed hand to post, "So do like, dudes just buy ropes and baklavas from the same store or what lmfao like a specialty Crime Store"
One of the kidnappers says "balaclavas" but it's muffled under the fabric. I ask them to repeat and they do, their voice raspy from disuse. "You wrote baklava, that's a pastry." The other kidnapper goes "stfu" and then after a pause goes "Why would you buy from a crime store"
I didn't wanna say this but now that someone's left this kind of comment I have to be honest: Everyone else's tags are funny but this is the only person who understood my vision for this scenario
Makarov and Nolan discussing new plans and documents and Makarov randomly saying Ā«you have a funny accent when you speak russianĀ» and then continuing the heated discussion of the plan as if nothing had happened
Andrei āIām starting to realise how much time I spend with my boss and itās probably really annoying him so I should try and distance myself a bit so heās got some more personal spaceā Nolan
Vs
Vladimir āIf my second in command leaves my sight for more than 5 seconds Iām killing everyone I seeā Makarov
John "Soap" MacTavish
Soap hears the beat drop - "Fellas, grab your lady if your lady fine"-and sprints. Full tackle hug. He scoops you up with a dizzying spin, gripping your waist like you might disappear. "Mine. All mine. Look at this stunner!" He's already yelling into the camera, pointing at you like you're a trophy he just won. "Who let you look this good? Who?!" He's
laughing, kissing your face a thousand times while holding you tight enough to squeak. He doesn't even check if the camera's rolling - he just needs the world to know you're his.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
He hears the lyric, lifts his head slowly... and stares. His eyes lock on you across the room. No words. Just heat. He moves toward you like a storm, scoops you up with one arm around your waist, and tucks your head under his chin. "Mine," he mutters darkly, voice low and possessive. "You're mine, yeah?" He glares at the phone camera like it personally offended him by suggesting someone else might try to claim you. He won't say much, but his death-grip cuddle and protective hover speak volumes. Someone play the song again. He liked that.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"Oh hell yeah!" Gaz yeets himself across the room with the biggest grin. "That's my cue!" He runs at you, scoops you up bridal style, and yells LOOK AT THEM!! FINEEEE AS HELL!!" to no one in particular. He does a whole Tik Tok spin with you in his arms, kisses your forehead, and then shoves his face in the camera: "Y'all wish you had someone like this. You WISH." He's giddy, shameless, and absolutely using this trend as an excuse to hype you up all day long.
John Price
The second the line drops, Price just calmly walks up behind you, wraps both arms around your waist, and presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. "You heard them," he murmurs into your ear. "Fine as hell, and all mine." His grip is firm, his smile warm, and he doesn't even care that you're recording - he needed a reason to wrap himself around you. Bonus points: he won't let go for the next hour. "What, trend's still going. Just doing my part."
Gary "Roach" Sanderson
You barely hear the song finish the word "fine" before Roach body slams into your back like a clingy cat. He wraps around you like a backpack, legs and all. You're laughing, but he's just grinning into your neck, clinging like he'll die if you take a step. Then he gives the camera a thumbs-up from behind you. "Approved," he signs quickly, then tugs you back to the couch with him still attached. He's not letting go. Ever. Song or no song you're now his personal pillow.
Nikolai
Nikolai pops up from wherever he is the moment he hears the lyric. "Ah! They are talking about you, dorogaya." He twirls you into a deep, dramatic dip like you're dancing in a Russian
ballroom, then kisses your hand like a gentleman. "Fine? That is an insult. You are divine." He's playing it up, for sure - winking at the phone, pointing at you like you're a royal gem. He's dramatic, proud, and already uploading the video with "#SheMine #TooFineForThisWorldā.
Alejandro Vargas
He SLAPS his knee when he hears the audio. "Ā”Dios mĆo, yes!"
Alejandro charges across the room picks you up, and throws you over his shoulder like you're a sack of gold. "They said grab you, cariƱo. I am obeying." You squeal, and he smacks your ass with a loud laugh. Fine? You're perfection. I should be arrested." He drops you on the couch and dramatically throws himself on top of you. "Trend complete. You are claimed."
Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Rudy hears the line, immediately goes beet red... then walks over, gently takes your hand, and pulls you into a quiet, strong hug. He tucks his chin over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles on your back. "They're right," he says quietly. "You are." You can feel his smile against your skin, even if his ears are red. It's shy, it's sincere, and when he sees the video afterward, he just shrugs with a soft laugh. "I couldn't help it."
Valeria Garza
"Damn right they are," Valeria growls as she hears the trend, slams her phone down, and yanks you into her lap without a second of hesitation. You think I need a Tik Tok to remind me you're mine?" She kisses your jaw, grabs your chin, and glares at the imaginary audience. "Let 'em look. They can't touch." She starts whispering all the things she wants to do to you in Spanish - most of which are not safe for Tik Tok.
Keegan Russ
Keegan hears the audio, looks at you, and just stares. Then he
marches over, loops his arms around your waist from behind, and holds you like a vice. "Yeah. Mine," he mutters into your ear. "Don't care who else is watching." His grip is warm and strong, and he presses a kiss to your jawline while glaring at the camera. His version of "grab your fine lady" is full tactical possessiveness - silent, serious, and absolutely not negotiable.
Kƶnig
He hears the line, peeks shyly from around the corner... and bolts. You yelp as he tackles you into the biggest, fluffiest hug ever. "I'm following orders," he mumbles into your hair, holding you so tightly you can't breathe. "You're fine. Too fine! Dangerous." He's beet red under the mask, but he won't stop snuggling you. "I didn't even know we were filming," he adds quietly, "but I would've done it anyway." That's love, baby.
Nikto
Nikto hears it, sighs darkly, and stomps over. "Come here," he growls, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his lap possessively. "They said fine? Understatement." He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms banded around you like a trap. "Don't post this. It's for us." But then he stares dead into the camera and adds: They touch, they die." Cue 100K saves.
Krueger
The audio plays. Krueger says nothing. He just appears behind you, wraps one arm around your shoulders, and stares menacingly into the camera. "I heard the instructions," he says in his calm, eerie tone. "They didn't say anything about letting go." You're stuck there now. He's not even hugging - he's caging. It's fine You're his forever. TikTok has spoken.
Philip Graves
"HELL YEAH!" Graves yells as the song hits. "GET OVER HERE!" He hoots, grabs you by the hips, and lifts you into the air like you're Simba. "WHO'S FINE? YOU'RE FINE. WHO SAID THAT? THEY SAID THAT!" He dips you back dramatically, kisses you on the mouth, then flexes to the camera like a cowboy Casanova. "Don't get jealous now, folks. This prize is taken."
Farah Karim
Farah hears the song, sets her book down calmly, and walks over like a queen. "They said what they said," she murmurs, gently pulling you into her arms. She brushes her hand along your cheek, tilts your face toward hers, and kisses you slowly! You are," she whispers. "You're so fine it hurts." Her voice is low, her touch reverent. She lets the world
hear the song - but makes sure you feel every word.
Hadir Karim
Hadir looks up mid-snack, hears the lyrics, and immediately drops his food. "OH I GOTTA PARTICIPATE." He stumbles into the hallway, slides toward you in socks, then grabs you in a dramatic dip. "Fine? More like heavenly." He kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips, then turns to the camera like a game show host. "10/10. Would marry. Already did." He adds a wink for good measure.
Alex Keller
Alex hears the trend and just smiles-that calm, easygoing smile that makes your knees weak. He strolls over, picks you up bridal-style without a second thought, and grins at the camera like you're the only person who matters. "How could I not grab you?" he says, kissing your forehead. It's casual, it's sweet, it's full of warmth. There's no pressure, just this deep, unshakable adoration in the way he looks at you. You're blushing, of course, but he just chuckles. "You're fine, you're smart, and you're mine." He posts it and adds a caption: "The best part of my day.
Kate Laswell
Laswell raises an eyebrow when you bring up the trend, but humors you with that small, amused smirk. When the beat hits, she doesn 't grab you-she steps beside you, links her fingers with yours, and lifts your joined hands to the camera like a quiet victory." They already know," she says softly, eyes twinkling. She doesn't need to perform or stake her claim-her presence alone is assurance. But she does lean in to kiss your cheek at the end, murmuring, āStill gonna remind 'em who you belong to." And somehow, that quiet confidence is sexier than anything else.
Vladimir Makarov
Makarov doesn't play by rules-he dominates them. When the trend plays, he grabs you by the waist with no hesitation, pulling you tight against his side. His smirk is wicked, eyes gleaming as he says, "Fine? No. You are untouchable." He kisses your hand like royalty, then glares at the camera like it's about to become a corpse. He doesn't just want the world to know you're his-he wants it to fear the thought of crossing that line. But behind closed doors, when the phone is away and the fire has dimmed, he whispers in Russian how beautiful you are. You're his softest obsession.
I have been wanting to write about realistic headcannons/thoughts with vladimir makarov -> very much inspirated by this post
Call it headcannons or whatever you want,i just wrote it like this.
This is about OG Vladimir because the reboot doesnt strike that.....villianous (is that a word?) as the OG one. In my eyes the OG is dangerous, manipulative, controlling, deeply unstable.
So this post is me stepping temporally out of my delulu's and be frfr.
He Doesnāt āDateā You -> He Acquires You
Makarov doesnāt see you as an equal partner.
In his mind, you are part of his game -> and his game,is the very world, like information or weapons.
When he chooses you, thatās it. Your opinion barely factors into it.
Manipulation Is His First Language
He never argues directly.
He undermines you until you feel small:
āYouāre overreacting again. You always do.ā
āIf you listened the first time, I wouldnāt have to raise my voice.ā
āEveryone else manages to handle this. Why canāt you?ā
He makes you question your memory, intentions, and even your sanity.
He Lies Without Hesitation
He lies the way other people breathe.
Where he went.
Who he met.
What heās planning.
Whether heās in danger.
Whether you are in danger.
And when you catch him?
He flips it.
āIf you trusted me, you wouldnāt ask.ā
Affection Is a Weapon
He uses tenderness only when he wants something:
When youāre about to leave him.
When he needs you calm.
When he wants information.
When he needs you quiet.
Suddenly heās gentle, apologetic, attentiveā
but it never lasts.
Itās a reset button, not love.
He Controls Your Life Quietly
He doesnāt scream or forbid things outright.
Instead:
That friend you were texting? Suddenly blocked.
Your passport? Missing.
Your favorite earrings? āLost.ā
Money? Always āhandledā by him.
Your family? He poisons them in conversation.
Until one day you realize you have no support system left except him.
He Silences You Without Lifting a Finger
If you raise your voice, complain, or cry?
He goes cold.
Emotionless.
Staring.
His silence is worse than yelling.
He waits until you break first.
āAre you finished?ā
Kills every argument instantly.
Public Face vs Private Face
To outsiders:
Heās charismatic.
He speaks for you.
He acts like a protective husband.
To you:
Heās dismissive.
Sharp.
Critical.
Unpredictable.
No one believes you when you try to describe him.
He knows that.
He Keeps You Dependent
He will:
Buy you things you didnāt ask for.
Handle every major decision.
Insist heās āprotectingā you.
Point out everything he does for you.
So when he hurts you?
You feel guilty for being upset.
Thatās intentional.
He Never Lets You Leave
If you pack a bag?
He finds you.
If you ignore him?
He shows up.
If you try to break up?
He laughs.
āYou donāt decide when this ends.ā
He is dangerous enough that the threat is real.
Yet He Never Wants to Hurt You Physically
Not out of kindnessā
but because your usefulness matters.
You are prettier intact.
Calmer.
Soft-spoken.
If you cry, he hates itānot because youāre sad,
but because it means heās losing control of the narrative.
The Worst Part: He Has Moments of Real Vulnerability
Sometimes, at night or after violence, he folds into you quietly:
Head on your shoulder.
Breath shaky.
Asking you not to leave.
Whispering things heād never admit when heās sober.
Those rare cracks in his armor keep you tied longer than anything.
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
gamechangershow
amandla
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